Love story Keenan and Joan
by the romantic girl
Summary: This is the story of Keenan and Joan from the move "Playing by heart." enjoy!
1. anger and loss

First even fanfic about an unmade category. Anyone know where I can found subtitles in English to that movie? Because there is a line Ryan Philippe says so fast I can't write it. This line: "Particularly, giving that I have been so defensive as I could."

Help would be needed.

Joan felt a huge sadness. Keenan had once again dumped her. "You're terrific, sensational really but I'm not right for you," echoed in her head. She had always known that she had this power of men; she knew she could make them dance at her feet. But Keenan controlled her. He made her feel vulnerable, shy even and she liked that. The music and the noise behind her weren't loud enough to disturb her. She loved him so much. She had never loved someone so deeply, and so passionately. It consumed her and she wanted more. More of his sobriety and his mystery. She desperately wanted to get to know him, his life, everything about him. It was the mystery that made him so attractive. They completed each other, she talkative and lively, he calm and silent. She could only stare at her vodka martini. "Goodbye." Goodbye forever, my love, thought she. She felt a suit against her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was an disgusting, sweaty man that flirted with her.

"Can I buy you a drink?" asked the Don Juan-wannabe-guy.

"I already have one," said she as disrespectful as she could so he would understand that the fight was over. But the guy was stubborn and went to her other side.

"How about another?" And before she had the time to say no, he bid the barman to give him drinks. "She'll have another one and I will have what's she having. I like your tight body, it's look like it would do what I tell him." Before, Joan would have laughed and flirted back. But now she knew Keenan, all this nonsense was just very irritating.

"What?"

"I said…" repeated the guy, thinking she didn't hear properly.

"No I heard what you said and I admit "what?" was a rather banal cliché, non-colourful response. What I really meant to say was why don't you do the world the big fat fucking favour and scrawl back into your mother womb."

He tried to explain himself. "Some girls like men to say something like that, you know."

She didn't want to admit she used to be "some girls" but no she was different. " Some girls like men to take a dump on them. I'm not even one of those girls."

He continued, more excited than ever." I like your dirty little mouth." She could see the desire in his eyes and she felt disgusted by it. She felt claustrophobic for a moment and she had the strong desire to leave the nightclub.

"This conversation is _so_ over." She rose from the barstool.

"Hey, what's your problem?" said the guy, not thinking for one second that a girl could reject him.

"What's my problem? Wow! That's fucking priceless! You cannot be for real." And indeed, she thought, why did he keep insisting when she wanted to be left alone? She noticed her behaviour and compared it with Keenan's. She understood now why he kept running away. She didn't realise how pushy she was. She could only be horrified at her past behaviour and she decided to change. For everyone's sake. If she wasn't so pushy, maybe the men will in her arms. But the only man she wanted in her life was Keenan and she could not have him. "it's there hidden cameras?"

"Are you natural redhead?" asked he as he put a dirty hand in her hair. Her body shivered at the idea of his dirty hand on her hair.

" You as much as think of touching me, you're gonna find yourself somewhat limping back to your mother's womb," she warned him.

"Oh yeah, I take my chances" said he as he was raising his hand to her hair.

"Yeah?" The man didn't succeed in his task because he got a drink on his face and a knee into his balls. The man reacted as every man does when he is hurt at that area while Joan calmly smiled to nearby people and walked away. Worried faces asked the man how he was before they returned to their conversation. She took two drinks and walked thought the crowd to find an empty table. She happened to hit someone a lost half the content in one of her drinks.

"Shit, fuck!" shouted she before she looked up. The man standing in front of her was no other than Keenan. He looked at her with surprise and wondered what had happened to put her into such a rage. She wondered what he thought of her, with vodka martini in each hand. Better to lie than to admit the truth.

"This isn't what it looks," explained she.

"Most things are," replied Keenan, reading her like an open book. She could never hide anything; he knew it, because all her real emotions showed in her eyes.

"Right," said Joan with pretended boredom and prepared to leave.

"Joan." He took a step to stop her. " I have been thinking." He didn't know how to continue.

"And?" replied Joan impatiently.

"And I feel, I feel…I feel," stammered he. This was the time he really said what he felt for someone and it was harder than he had predicted.

"You could have fooled me. You know, that you could feel. That you feel anything," mocked Joan, leaving for the second time, afraid of if he would destroy her a second time. It's better to leave than to cry at his face. She could feel the tears coming at her eyes, but she wouldn't let Keenan see them.

"Okay, now _you_ are being mean." She felt glad that she broken one glass wall off his defence but she didn't like to be mean.

She laughed bitterly. "You know what, Keenan, pardon me for being an angerball."

"An angerball?" asked Keenan.

" But a lot seems to happen in the emotional roller-coaster which I laughingly call my life. What's happened to me in last few minutes, do you know what, let's just call this the new me." Joan wanted to convey in these words that she could live without him and she would. She didn't need him. He liked to crush her heart in pieces and she wouldn't allow him to do that.

"There was nothing wrong with the old you," confessed he sincerely. He liked her this way, talking and laughing at him and making him feel alive and brave. The new Joan wouldn't be like that at all. Joan was taken aback. He knew just the right words to make her heart melt. She felt angry at him. What right had he to say something like that? How dared he? To be mean and then change suddenly like that? It was cruel and unjust to her feelings. She could stand the mean and cruel Keenan but not the nice one. He was too painful.

"You can't treat people like the way you treat people and then, say something adorable like that!" cried she in anger. He knew he had hurt her, he could see it in her eyes. But she didn't know what made him like that. She shouldn't want either. He always succeeded to run before the serious begins. But she did give her up anything about him and now that she was about to give up, he wanted to continue the fight.

"There is some things about me you don't know," explained he with difficulty.

"I don't know anything about you!" persisted Joan with the same tone.


	2. confessions

Keenan felt the time to share his past. He wanted to tell this amazing woman why he was so bitter and silent. He liked her. She could light up an entire nightclub by her own. She loved an ugly cat with only one eye. She…he would stop to think about her, he was a young man, with a cold destroyed heart, incapable of loving anyone. Especially loving her. He was terrified at the idea. They went from the noisy _Mayan_ to a quieter place, the _blue rooms_. They sat down at an empty table, with fair distance to the jazz music and quiet enough for talking. She had her dry vodka martini with three olives, he his coke. She was the one that talked first. He let her because he knew she liked the have the first word.

"So let me take a stab at human story, you had a great love, a romance of your life time, totally cosmic, out of this world bond with little miss X. And she left you."

"You're not far off." The first part, at least. Sarah was something special, he had known it from the first meeting. Pretty, smart and always positive, she had always known his weaknesses and the how to make him smile. He was not as he was now. He had laughed a lot. He studied at the university, law essentially. He had wanted to be a lawyer. She was a waitress at his favourite café. It was love at first sight. He had loved her unconditionally, naturally, without any scruples.

" People get over this things, Keenan. I'm getting over this things _all_ the time." How she could be so special? Why did she have that I don't? Joan was jealous. He seemed to value her highly. She couldn't understand why. Was one girl so hard to forget?

"Well, it can only be once for me," confessed Keenan with melancholy. No one could be superior to her. She had been his everything.

"You're sweet to believe things so absolutely but you're also full of shit." Joan smiled playfully. "You can love again." You can love me, was her actual meaning. I'm right here! She left you. I will be here for you. But once again, she didn't say anything. She has hidden herself behind a mask of good humour.

" No. I can't. Any more than you…" he didn't finish the phrase. He had wanted to show her how he felt. He knew this was the only way to make her understand. But he stopped himself.

"Any more than I can't what?" asked she while swallowed her mouthful of her cocktail.

" I don't know. Any more than you can stop drinking." As soon as he said what, she stopped herself and out of her mouth came the vodka martini. She also "accidentally" dropped her glass. She smiled at Keenan to show the importance of her act. A waiter hurried to pick up the pieces of glass.

"Should I get you another one? Gin-martini, right?" excused he, as he was he who had dropped the glass.

"Vodka, "corrected she, "but I'm really had enough."

"I insist." persisted the waiter. Joan felt her irritation rising. She wanted to be alone with Keenan. She had just made something serious, she had stopped drinking, from now one, she won't drink a single drop of alcohol and that thanks, to Keenan. She felt good, powerful, even if Keenan had the power since he had practically said that she drank too much. Keenan was surprised. She was really obstinate! But it was good for her, to stop drinking.

"Look, pal, this is not, and I don't mean this affectionately-scram!" The waiter was quickly gone and she turned back to Keenan. "Where were we? Oh yes! I have just given up alcohol and you are going to tell me of the greatest love of your life."

"Her name was Sarah," began he.

"And she was your first?"

"Yes." She was very jealous now. Why couldn't he let go? Her first love was Jake Callaghan. She was 15 and she had given him her virginity in her bedroom one night. She had of course loved him like a first love but she had gotten over with it. That Sarah wasn't worth his regrets and melancholy, she though.

"Look, it's natural to elevate our first love to some sort of mythic, emotional plateau. But you fell in love. She left you. And now you're your dealing with love most common bi-product- suicidal mad depression." She felt good to have explain things to him, now he knew what he had. This was the sentence her mother told her when she was angry with an ex. "You're dealing with love bi-product." She smiled knowingly. "Do you feel better now?"

"No," said he irritated. "It's hard to talk about," said he with more gentle tone, to excuse his harsh tone.

"I had a friend, musician, trumpet player. Really terrific. When he goes here every month or so to jam, he plays this piece I love, an old Chet Baker song. And he blows the same notes every time and every time it sounds different." Keenan nodded. "We had drinks one night-when I used to drink. And I tried to tell him how that song made me feel, how the playing made me feel, the music made me feel. And he just kept shaking his head and he said: "Joan you can't talk about music. Talking about music is liking dancing about architecture." And I said: Okay, fine, now that we are getting philosophical, that's made this it as pointless as talk about a lot of things. Love, for instance. And my friend laughed and he said: "definitely. Most definitely. Talking about love is like dancing about architecture." So I don't know, he might be right. But it ain't gonna stop me from trying."

He smiled at her obstinacy. She was really a woman that was decided. " I wish you could do that more often. Smile." Keenan's smile was like thousands suns. It made Joan's head spin like a yo-yo and her heart melt like ice cream in summer.

"So do I," said Keenan seriously. Joan began to doubt he would have another voice. The few words he said were thrown out with difficulty, like he was too painful to talk.

"So let me guess: you and wonder woman were together a year?" The green snake of jealousy were crawling in her voice.

" A year and a half," corrected he.

"And you were faithful to her?"

" Completely." How could he look at another woman when she was near, which was, almost always the case. They spent as much time as possible with each other.

"And you shared everything?" still jealous and doubtful of her goodness. He got silent and seemed to memorize something difficult. Joan regretted her question as she saw the pain in his eyes.

He finally spoke out with difficulty. "We shared everything…" he could finish his sentence.

Joan reflected a moment. She had never opened herself completely to anyone. She didn't trust any of her exes to understand and to actually talk to her about anything. The knowledge that one could say anything to the one you loved must have been truly fantastic. "This must be nice."

He nodded. " It was." He continued, still with grief in his eyes. "But, in addition to sharing these things, turned out that I was also sharing her with others." His eyes were full of tears, threatening to run down along his cheeks. " With a variety of other people." And what people, thought he with a dagger in his heart, he had regretted as long as he lived.

" I hate to do this because I don't wanna defence your feelings or anything. Sadly that happens, every day," explained Joan, thinking she had committed adultery.

"This other people also shared needles." He thought of the heartbreaking memory when he had seen her, in that hospital bed, dead because of overdose. She had hidden this from him. When he had seen her on that bed, he never had felt so suicidal in his life. He would have jumped off the window at the moment. But a strange force made him stay, made him continue. He realised now that this force would lead him to Joan. "She died last year," said he as he took away one tear from the corner of his eye. " But no before sharing a final thing with me."

Joan was deeply moved. This was more serious than she realised. Keenan didn't go trough depression, but grief and guilt also. This girl has not only left him-she had left him in the most cruel way-by dying. She loved him more than ever now; she wanted to help him, to comfort him and to say that everything was okay. But he closed himself in his shell. She had no keys to his heart. He didn't let her in.


	3. happiness

The air after his confession was different, something had happened between them, he had talked about his life and she had listened. Different roles now. They went to sit down in the car, prepared to go. But none of them wanted to leave, they felt that they had things to talk about still. Keenan broke the silent.

"They got it back…" meaning the car.

"They got what back?" asked Joan, with tear in her voice.

" The police found your car." Joan nodded distractingly. The car she got stolen from her sister to make Keenan follow her home.

"Keenan…" said she with a sorry face. She wanted to say she was sorry and that he didn't have to say anything. All of this was her fault.

"You don't have to say anything. I told you because I wanted to tell you." Joan understood and nodded. " I wanted to because for the first time in a long time I wished things were different." He wanted to offer something of himself, the self he was before. But there was no turning back; his heart was broken and dead.

"They can be," persevered Joan.

"No, they can't." But it was past, thought Joan. He could love again. He was still young. She wanted to tell him, how much she wanted him in his life. She had never known such passionate, tender love to anyone. She had never wanted to just hold someone in her arms. To just want to spend the night talking. She wanted to offer that to Keenan and much more. SO much more.

"Well, that doesn't mean you can't love."

"Joan, it means exactly that. It doesn't mean anything else." Couldn't she let go? Nobody wanted him, he was finished with life, and Sarah had killed all emotions in him. But Joan was different from Sarah. Sarah had been smart and gentle. Joan was energetic, impulsive, and passionate. She was his complete opposite and he didn't mind. But still, his heart was as cold as ice.

"I don't believe that for a second that you can't love." Joan felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn't want to stop however because it felt natural. He was a man a woman could cry herself to death for.

" I can't," repeated he.

" Stop saying that!" shouted she a bit more desperately than before.

"It's the only thing I can say to make you understand." Understand what? That he didn't care for her? Joan was confused and hurt. She wanted to know what he meant but she feared the answer. "It may sound corny but…you don't want me." Nobody wanted him. His mother has left him the day she saw him come to the world. His dad had taken care of a small baby, unaware of to be a parent. He had remarried when Keenan had left high school for university but he had grown up with a mother and poor experience of women. Sarah was first and then Joan. He had felt irritated of her attention, comfortable of his loneliness. But she had persisted and they were now here, in this car. "I'm damaged goods."

" For God's sake, we are all damaged goods. I'm wandering around trough life without any purposes or goal at all, I don't know what I'm doing half the time. But I know I can love. I know I can love you, I know that I do love you." There she had it. The name in L. She couldn't be less emotional than she was right now. She loved this man with an intense, consuming and gentle love. She wouldn't let it go. Not now. Not ever.

"I won't let you love me." She couldn't love him, that was impossible. He had tried so hard not to encourage anything. But in the end, he couldn't stay away. She was his drug, he couldn't get enough.

"Why?"

" I won't let you love me because…" He had difficulty saying it. He hadn't said to anyone for a long time. His voice was powerful and full No, no, STOP. I've waited my entire life for somebody that I cared about to tell me they loved me and if you think you're getting out of this car now, you're INSANE!" Keenan was agitated like a bird in a cage. He cleaned his eyes from tears and prepared to defence himself. But he had to admit that the feeling was love. No matter how hard it had tried to shut it out. It had come creeping in him. He loved her more anything else. But he couldn't let anything happen. She was not for him and he was not anything for her. She needed another guy, happier and more capable to give her what she wanted. "…Because I love you." He looked at her with tear in his eyes.

Joan couldn't believe her ears. "You love me?"

" Can I go?" He felt trapped like an animal. She couldn't love him and he wanted to think. To think what he would do next. T love someone was a big responsibility. He couldn't be what she wanted him to be.

"No, no STOP!" Joan shouted the word and hurried to lock the car to stop him from running away. "

" It will never work." Keenan persisted to think this was a bad idea. They will never be together as a couple. They were too much different and he was finished.

"It's already…working." Joan was laughing while she was crying. She couldn't let him escape now. Now she knew he loved her. She would try everything to make it work out. But she felt the sorrow and the pain coming like a small thunderstorm and she began to lost hope. Keenan took a good look at her. She was different. Her face was red and her face was wet with tears. Her eyes looked deeply sad. He wanted to comfort her, to take her in his arms but he knew he couldn't let that happen.

"I thought you didn't cry…"

" And I thought you didn't date," replied Joan with more confidence. " Surprise-I'm crying. And this is very much a date. It's unconventional perhaps, but It's the best date I ever had." She swallowed a tear before she leaned over to kiss Keenan. He kissed back and put his hands around her neck. It lasted a few seconds before he panicked and violently leaned over to unlock the car.

"I can't," mumbled he before he ran away into the dark night.

"Please, don't!" pleaded Joan before he was out of the car. Left was her miserable, lonely life. She didn't stop the tears from coming now, as they flooded her face and her clothes. She doubted she would ever be happy again. She started the car and drove away. As she arrived at her apartment, Blanche welcome her with her usual mono eye stare. Joan went to her bed and as soon as her head touched the pillows, she was asleep.

Joan woke up the next day, with a big hangover. She felt surprised considering she had drunk only three month full of vodka martini. She prepared her toast, her coffee and sat down in her favourite chair. The memories of last night went back to her and her heart felt like a heavy rock. Keenan had pierced her heart with a dagger, which would be left there forever. Her sister called and her mood went up a little bit. They talked of her cat, Blanche. Her sister asked about Keenan and she felt she became bitter. How could she be bitter now? Wasn't bitterness something reserved for old people? A knock on the door was heard. She went to open it, in her pink pyjamas. Outside was Keenan, fully dressed.

She smiled, overpowered by the joy to see him. "Hi." She let him in as she explained that she had to finish a phone call. Her sister would understand why she would have hung up on her. While her back turned back from him, she put off her (tandställning) and put the phone back. He closed the door and approached her. " MCI. They're geniuses at tricking you into conversation." She didn't want to say that she had a sister, a person that knew all about Keenan.

"I can't stop thinking about you," began he.

"I love conversations that starts with the guy saying: I can't stop thinking about you. Mind you've never actually been on those receiving end of any of those conversations…"

"Just looking at you make me happy," interrupted he.

"Okay, I have to sit down." This new Keenan scared her. Her knees felt weak and she wanted to sit down to prevent from falling. She didn't thought he was serious. After last night, she prepared herself that she would spend her days without him. And now he was her, in her "living room" throwing romantic lines all over the place. And also she wanted to sit down to remind herself she was not in a dream, to confirm that Keenan was actually here. She stumbled backward until she found the chair.

" When we're together, whether I show it or not, I just can't wait for the next words out of your mouth," continued Keenan. " But right now I need you to do something for me."

" Anything," said she in a breath.

" Shut up. Just for a moment." She nodded in agreement. He went on rapidly. "I have been thinking about what you said last night. I have no idea why you are so relentless. Particularly, giving that I have been so defensive as I could. No matter how hard I tried to block everything you said- the message has been received." Joan shut her eyes. She wanted to see if this was really a dream. But when she opened her eyes, he was still standing there. He admitted that he accepted her love. She felt hopeful and tears came to her eyes again. He was the only man that hade made her cry so much. " In a place inside me that I thought had died, but it hasn't. That place inside me is alive and well." He stopped and felt insecure again. " I can't made any promises… but I like to try to be with you. It won't be easy but I'd like to try." Joan was exploding. This entire monologue had made her heart beating faster. The last part was the climax.

" Can I say something?" said she prudently. He nodded. She stood up. " You're right- It won't be easy." The message sank in and a huge happiness drowned her." But that's okay," said she with a big smile.

" I'm gonna be with you but you have to understand that we can't…" stammered he.

" Have sex," filled Joan in.

" It might be the unconventional way but it is the only I can this, at least for the time being." No matter how much he had accepted this woman in his life, he felt insecure about that area and was unsure on how she would react. " If that's not a problem…"

" When was having sex or not having sex not a problem?" joked Joan. She felt a bit embarrassed. This was the first time a guy asked her to slow down. She was a bit scared of the outcome but she reminded herself that she loved that man deeply. She became serious again. To be honest, it's gonna be difficult not to express physically what I feel for you but…" She raised one eyebrow, a sign that meant she was witty again. "We can look for other ways…there is nothing wrong with holding each other?"

"No, not at all," smiled Keenan, knowing that she had accepted the situation. He took one step closer to her.

"And sleeping with each other?" asked Joan playfully.

" I can do that," said Keenan as he was nearer her.

"And…loving each other forever?" The later question was a mere rhetorical question.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" asked Keenan with a wide smile. This wonderful woman was now his forever. She had fought like a tiger for a lamb. He realised she had been right in fighting.

Joan chuckled. " Usually that line is screamed at me by somebody running outdoor. Not standing in front of me." She touched his wonderful face. "Nice change…" said she before she was stopped by Keenan's mouth. He put his hands gently on her waist. They were out of time and out of place as they were kissing hungrily in front of Blanche's suspect eye. They were avid to get to know each other and they tasted each other's lips like it was Ambrosia. Joan giggled of pure happiness.


	4. more happiness

After been kissing for a long time, they stopped only to stay in each other's arm. It was just like it was enough to hug and to hold hands. After a while, Joan broke the comfortable silence.

"Are you hungry? It is nearly midday. I can fix us something to eat."

"Just a moment," mumbled he before kissed her on the lips. "okay, now you can go."

That kiss has made Joan feel dizzy and she paused a moment before she went to her little kitchen. "So what do you want? There is chicken, pasta…" listed she as she were looking into the cupboards. Keenan had the perfect view over her little bottom and he found nothing wrong with it. He suddenly felt a lust of being with her, in the bed, touching and holding. He hadn't held someone like that for a very long time. "You."

"What?" Joan asked as she turned toward him.

" I want you."

Joan raised an eyebrow. "Why didn't you say that earlier? Come on." She took his hands and led him into the bedroom. She suddenly didn't know what to do so she turned from him to light the numerous candles. She didn't know what to do because they had agreed not to have sex now and she had always known what men wanted when they meant sex. Keenan must have understood her panicked eyes because he took a few steps toward her.

"Hey, don't be so alarmed, we can do this in my way." He put his hands around her face.

" Your way? How does your way work?" said she nervously as she reached for the button on her pyjamas. Keenan stopped her.

"Ssch, that is my cue." He unbuttoned her top and let in fall to the ground. He was kissing her while he undressed. She could only stand there, with her arms motionless. " Okay, now it is your turn as she was naked except the knickers. She took his jacket with shaking hands. He helped her pass the shirt over his head. He quickly jerked off his shoes and the socks. He finally was in his underwear. After finished with this circus, he looked at her and found out he stared.

" Oh my, Joan, you look beautiful, sensational."

"Well, thank you, but I hope you're not going to say than I'm not for you."

" I would never say that. Oh wait. I have." He chuckled. " I promise that I'll never say that again. I am yours forever as you are mine."

"It sounds good," said she before she surprised him by falling on the bed talking him with her in the fall. She kissed him hungrily and he kissed back in the same way. Joan never knew that one could be so happy just kissing somebody.

" I have forgotten what it felt like so be so close with someone."

" I have never been so close to anyone," confessed Joan. This was new for her and she found that she loved it, a lot. Her exes had never been like Keenan. Decided, selfish men that loved themselves and had never known the meaning of giving flowers. She had also been different then. Inexperienced even after many boyfriends, she thought that this was the way men were. Even the boyfriend before Keenan, a guy she must thank for his involuntary matchmaking, had been dull. Keenan was smart, funny and gentle. She felt like a princess that had discovered the charming prince. Keenan felt privileged. Joan was something special and she confessed that she felt special with him. He wanted to take care of her, to comfort her. He had told his father that he had met a woman, and that he would live with her. His father had worried and asked him if it was wise. Keenan knew she was the one; no one else could be better than Joan. She was just Joan, his Joan. Joan felt the time to confess. She must tell him about the car. After all, she had made the plot and faked hysteria. It had worked to some extend since he had dumped in her apartment.

" We're always gonna be honest to each other, right?" Joan asked.

"It's essential," replied he.

Joan was unsure of what to say. She didn't how he would react. If he was gonna be angry or hurt. The last thing she wanted was to hurt his feelings over a stupid car. "Hum, I have to confess something."

"Shoot."

"The night that we went to the movies and you walked me to my car?"

"You mean the car you pretended was stolen?"

Joan couldn't be more surprised. How could he know? All her anxieties were gone and were now replaced by perfect astonishment. She laughed of her stupidity. " You knew?"

He chuckled. He was amused by her unawareness. He had known perfectly right that she had tricked him. The made up scene of frustration, the crying, he knew. He had read straight trough her, a gift he knew he had from the first moment. He had played his part well, and his thoughts had been confirmed in the car when they declared their love. Her distracted nod told everything. Joan was ashamed. She tapped him on the shoulder for his amused face. All this time and he had known that she had made this to make him follow her home. She put her hands on her ashamed face.

" I may have been a bastard case that evening but I wasn't born yesterday."

" I'm so ashamed," said she behind her hands as he kissed on the available face. Joan's reaction was to hit him on the arm. She couldn't be angrier with him for not telling. But she did this while laughing so Keenan knew she was reconciled with it. He took her in his arms to stop her from hitting on the shoulder and he kissed her on the red cheek. She was more beautiful when she was ashamed and laughing. He reminded himself that he would try to make her laugh for the rest of his life. "Well," said she, admitting she had lost the battle. Keenan looked beautiful. His blue hair was glowing and his blue eyes sparkling. He was smarter than she thought and she couldn't love him less for that. "I so very much love you."

" And I love you." He looked at those wonderful eyes. " And Joan…"

"Yes, Keenan?"

" In time, I may even get to like this mangy cat of ours," said he as she looked at Blanche's angry stare.

Joan chuckled. " She's got the eye on you," said she as she mimed Blanche's face.

"And that is her good one," joked he. Blanche giggled and took one playfully one of his finger in her mouth. His lips soon replaced the finger and he moved on top of her to kiss her.


End file.
